A Dog Becomes Abused Woman's Best Friend

Books

February 3, 2002|By Reviewed By Mary Ann Horne, Sentinel Staff Writer

There are many amazing things about Connie May Fowler's memoir, When Katie Wakes.

First is that Fowler, the Florida writer whose works include the award-winning novel Before Women Had Wings, is able to tell her story of childhood abuse and its legacy of self-loathing and masochism that led to her abuse as a young adult. Given her background, the odds of her even surviving to tell it would seem slim.

Second, that she could rise out of the seemingly bottomless pit of violence and tell her story with such compassion and restraint is a feat as artistic as it is heroic.

But perhaps more amazing is that a story of such extreme circumstances could be written so eloquently that its events and emotions will resonate in the relatively calm and ordered lives of most readers.

Born to two alcoholic parents, who suffered child abuse themselves and then perpetuated the pattern, Fowler segues from caring for her dying mother to serving the needs of a monstrous man 30 years her senior who beats her. But even the beatings pale next to his cruelty and intimidation as he berates her intelligence, appearance and ability while lying to her, stealing from her and living off her modest earnings, first as a bartender, then as an editor of a small magazine.

Fowler describes her reaction to her abuser as a time when her mind would "split in half," allowing her to be both outraged at her treatment and to sink into believing the ludicrous charges that she is ugly and stupid and incapable at the same time. "And though I resent it, I cannot dissolve the feeling that I have brought this curse upon myself, that I was born helpless and ignorant, and that he is simply fulfilling a cosmic will," she writes.

The reader's mind too begins to split in half, between shocked anger and knowing despair. At times, it's almost impossible not to scream aloud at the pages of the book: "Get out. Don't be there when he comes home drunk and hits you again." At other times Fowler's internal monologue appears too familiar for comfort -- almost everyone knows the shame of being teased, or of feeling hoplessly inadequate or stupid.

Fowler puts up with the abuse for a long time, but she seeks small escapes. She moves into a professional job; she begins to have some friends of her own. She even has a romance -- with an unhappily married man -- who turns out to be the love of her life.

But her first big step into her own -- and the one from which the book gains its title -- is adopting a lovable black dog she names Katie. The dog becomes her confidante, lifeguard and closest friend.

After one particularly savage beating, Fowler writes: "I lie motionless, trapped in darkness so resolute that even shadows cannot penetrate."

That's when Katie steps in and leads the battered young woman out of the dark room and to a place of relative safety behind the locked kitchen door. It is also Katie who shows Fowler how to escape effectively by inducing a tormentor to open a hole in the fence for her. And it is Katie who inspires her owner to head for daylight on the other side of the dark violence.

After a harrowing escape and a bold plunge into a real relationship, Fowler emerges in the light and is able to share the secrets of the other side. Her courage and talent are undeniable, and this story is likely to stir the same emotions as When Women Had Wings and the Oprah-produced television movie based on that book.

Fowler adroitly uses the technique of addressing her abuser directly in parts of Katie, which takes some of the pressure off the narrative and adds a slightly dispassionate tone to the writing so that it never sinks into melodrama. The epilogue is a summary of her life after her escape. "This is what you do not know," she tells her abuser. "That kid, she wasn't so bad. She didn't deserve to be beaten. Not by Mama. Not by you. Not by anyone."

Writing fondly of her canine savior, who has now departed this world, Fowler says that she and her husband, photographer Mika Fowler, "will never get over her death. But we try mightily every day to celebrate her life. By loving each other, we honor her. By loving each other, we ascend."